“Stay”, you say.
She stumbles and begins to respond.
“Stay, Please.”, now you say.
It is getting late. The evening begins early with sun just about hovering on the horizon. She and you spend an hour walking aimlessly, both pretending to find something interesting. Each time her hands brush against yours, you skip a heart beat and flutter like a caged bird.
As darkness falls, you decide that dinner must be had. You food choices match instantly, so you take off, just as intently. She has but no option but to hold you tight as you swerve your motorcycle through the evening traffic. The restaurant, luckily, has seating for two. In a darkish corner, surrounded by half grown shrubs, she and you settle on the plastic molded chairs. The restaurant is tacky at best but she and you can’t wait to order the spring rolls.
At dinner, the evening air cools into the night. The food steams first and then the conversation. You talk about everything. You listen to everything. She talks about everything. She listens to everything. You notice she has eyes that tell stories. But she tell you that first.
Suddenly you feel like watching a movie. So does she. And within minutes you are left casting secret glances at her in the darkness of the talkies but amidst the intermittent glares of the big screen. The movie is supposedly good. Realistically, you will have to watch it again to really know. Half way through the movie you feel her head resting on your shoulders. Her hair tickles you neck albeit only at first touch. After which, you don’t remember.
The movie ends. Without premonitions or agendas her hands find themselves in yours. There is nothing strange about it. There is nothing exciting about. It just feels like a perfect fit.
And now, you find yourself in front of her dorm with her gates about to close for the night. There is a wiry guard in his khakis literally counting the minutes. An hour after, you realize that your gates too will close. Perhaps you could jump over the wall but what of the motorcycle?
Yet, you both know the night is far from over.
So you say, “Stay?”
And with excited hands, she “hmms” and “errrs” but finally clamps down hard, pressing your fingers together unexpectedly… There is no pain, for she, has decided to stay.
And you are off again. To celebrate, you decide on a late night tea. This time there are no chairs only large rocks conveniently places around the hand kart that serves tea.
And hours pass as you traverse far corners of the city looking for any sign of light and life. But at four in the morning, even the faint yellow 60 watt bulbs give up.
Yet the stars remain. And so do you both. Over an under pass and under a lighted sky! Your jacket covers her. And you sit. There are no kisses, there are no pecks. There are sentences not necessarily one after another. There are silences. Fantastic silences.
The sun rises early. You grab the morning tea on her way to the dorm. She alights after another one of her pressing holds on your arms. You wish each other good bye knowing fully well that it only be a few more hours before you would meet her again.
Nice..I am hoping this is real life and not fiction 🙂
Avanti: Unfortunately like all my other stories this too has been severely embellished and cannot be called real in its entirety. However, perhaps, it would be good to note the usage of the word “seems” and more importantly the liberal use of PAST PERFECT tense:-)
Thanks for the compliment though.
who are you thinking of when you write these. have always known you as a hopeless romatic..be it your cars or your girls..but it would be interesting, and frankly reassuring, to know the muse.
you know who.
This past looked almost perfect:), if only the ‘dorm’ had remained a ‘hostel’:P. It had a very indian feel to it with plastic chairs, spring rolls, and chai at night, until the Dorm came into the scene.
Good one.
Dreams are what reality is made of:).
hmmm…COEP and what could’ve been?
For me, definitely yes. Never found ‘the one’ then.
Still haven’t, BTW 🙂
Sparsh: feel free to interchange hostel for a dorm if that makes it better fro . I guess I was optimistically hoping for a global audience, hence the dorm 🙂
More importantly, the past doesn’t always have to be real.
Ajay: COEP was all that it could have been for me. Embellishment for fictional purposes could be just for Jeffery Archer’s sake!!
there are silences. fantastic silences.
and that says it all.. wonderful the way you set the mood as we read along.
kadak post, ekdum! 🙂 and about the last line, mala barrech wela watlay tasa but everytime I was proved wrong!!:P and I’m glad, that I was! 🙂 😛
mystic rose: Thanks. Yes, silence expectedly speaks much
Ashlesha: Thanks Ash! Looks like you really understood the post 🙂
I was thinking similar things through sometime back…
I second Ashlesha, its a brilliant last line… 🙂 and somehow in the context I draw,very hopeful though ironical! 🙂
Thanks for the explanation.
BTW,”hoping” was the keyword here -not “”assuming” 🙂
Ups: Its always amazing how readers interpret differently. I am glad you liked it no matter how you saw it 🙂
Avanti: Touche Avanti, Touche
hey,
i was just trying to make a statement that even if sony will go in a loss
due to undesired sales or whatever, threat of new products, they will not stop it, beacause blu ray is awesome
and hey by the way,
a song you must listen to:
(related to the sun).. sunny california
“California dreaming” – mamas and papas
It seems so real! I wonder if it just a figment of your imagination or times spent with someone way back in your engineering days. You know what I am talking about, don’t you?
Was it a white shirt that you were wearing that evening? 🙂
Nice!! Very realistic style…
Morpheus: Thanks a lot! And for visiting!
you are a real good story teller 🙂 especially how your posts almost blur the line between fiction and reality –
Thanks K. Infact, I must be frank and mention that sometimes even in my own reality I never hesitate to mix some fiction and expect reality to follow. When will I learn?